


Countdown

by Sintina



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Being Otaku is Good for You, Fandom Freakout, M/M, The Countdown is Killing Us In the Best Way, The St. Petersburg Skating Fam, Yuri Plisetsky pretending not to fanboy, gushing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-31 03:04:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15110507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sintina/pseuds/Sintina
Summary: Big ‘Yuri On Ice’ news is coming and the Katsuki-Nikiforovs must rearrange their plans for the weekend.Our heroes happen to love a global-sensation, figure skating anime- loosely based on their own lives- just as much as we do.





	Countdown

**Author's Note:**

> I had to do something with all this pent up energy. It’s happening you guys! It’s really happening!

The rounded pad of Victor’s ring finger was centimeters away from applying a precisely-sized dab of product to the delicate skin beneath his eye when Yuuri screamed in the living room.

Yuuri called Victor’s name and Victor darted from the bathroom in his robe, one eye clenched shut. Yuuri was jumping in place, not injured or dying. Okay, good. Victor did a rapid self-assessment. He’d poked himself and his eye stung. But the product had only smeared across Victor’s upper eyelid, thank goodness. He was still afraid to open it. Victor tilted his head back so tears wouldn’t disturb the night cream tingling into his laugh lines.

Yuuri spotted him and bounded forward, laptop supported on his forearm, phone in the opposite hand, face cycling between the two, no idea where to look.

“It’s happening! Victor! Victor! Look!” Yuuri cried, but before Victor could look, the phone in Yuuri’s hand rang and Yuuri spun around, answering it, “Phichit! I know! I saw! I’m telling Victor! Wait, what?! Where!?” Yuuri then balanced the laptop on the arch of the couch and typed something. A black screen appeared with bright blue numbers, counting down. Yuuri squealed, apologized to Phichit, and chirped, “I have to catch Victor up! I’ll call you right back! I swear!”

He hung up, turned to face Victor, and seemed to hyperventilate.

Victor gave him a moment. After a cautious swipe of his eyelid, he tentatively opened it. Inhaling deep at the jittery state of Yuuri, he smiled. This adorable man. “Grand Prix assignments were hours ago. What could possibly be more exciting?”

Yuuri’s eyes grew wide behind his glasses, brows lost under his long black fringe. His smile was the dopey one from the Sochi banquet, the “Be My Coach” smile that Victor would never forget. Except this one was sober, less sloppy, and pure, pure joy.

“The movie! The concert! A new figure!” Yuuri took a rapid breath and wheezed: “All at once!” He dropped his head and gripped Victor’s shoulder with his free hand. “All at once, Victor! It’s too much! It’s not enough! I’m so excited!”

“Is this about the show?” Victor finally put the pieces together. He was rapid blinking now, pretty sure his eyes were clear. “Yuri on Ice?”

“Yes! Look!” Yuuri lifted the countdown on the laptop up to Victor’s eye level, as if it wasn’t discernable from a distance.

“Lyubov moya, breathe. Tell me what’s happening.” He guided Yuuri to the couch to sit down. “Complete sentences, please.”

Yuuri nodded. Inhaled and exhaled, then began, “I can’t believe they’re watering our crops with a flood like this!” But Yuuri’s phone rang again and he looked at Victor with pleading eyes. Victor glanced at his own phone on the side table as it chirped and rattled with notifications.

“Go ahead, I’ll figure it out,” he smiled as Yuuri answered the phone with rapid-fire Japanese. Even though Yuuri got up from the couch, Victor could still hear the combined shrieks of Mari and Minako on the other end. There was no way this wouldn’t end in Facetime. Victor hated being out of the loop, though, so he reached for his own phone. 14 missed texts from Chris, 4 from Mila, and even one from Yura. He smirked when he read Yuri’s simple:

_“I’m coming over Sunday.”_

Yura tried to pretend he didn’t like the world’s most beloved figure skating anime- with a main character clearly modeled after him- for two years. He hated his namesake character most of all, of course. Probably because Yuri still pretended to hate all things romance and this show was definitely a romance tucked inside a sports anime.

Victor wasn’t on board at first, either, he’d have to admit. The hard truth was Victor hadn’t originally planned to watch the show until Yuuri got the Blu rays with the English dubs. He was happy to let it be something Yuuri loved. It was okay, he’d explained, they could have different passions. Victor came to accept that his beloved was an otaku for this anime. He discovered Yuuri arranged recurring Facetimes with Chris and Phichit to discuss metas, fan theories, and the current popular fanfic and fanart. He thought it was cute. But he wasn’t interested in seeing some fanciful, fictional soap opera on ice. There was no way they could get it right. Even though Yuuri said it was surprisingly accurate, Victor didn’t want to check it out and be disappointed, or worse, hurt Yuuri’s feelings because he didn’t like it. 

Victor was further turned off when Chris gushed that a character was an obvious blend of several real life skaters. ‘Especially you,’ he’d said, ‘I can tell the writers are big fans. He looks like Javier, but he talks and skates like you.’ Victor wasn’t insulted, really. Of course Yuuri had told him about the character already, but when even Chris thought it was a caricature, Victor was surprised his publicist wasn’t on a illegal-use-of-likeness warpath. 

Then it was announced Stephane Lambiel was a guest voice actor on one of the episodes. The last episode, apparently. Somehow, that legitimized things for Victor, much as he hated to admit it. And Yuuri was so adamant that Victor give the show a shot. So, Victor sat down, the day after the penultimate episode, while Yuuri was still at ballet. He would watch just one, to see how he felt about it. When Yuuri got home, Victor was singing ‘Born to Make History’ and twirling Makkachin around the living room. 

Yuuri lost all concept of chill. 

After the impromptu, celebratory makeout session left their heads buzzing, they binged eleven episodes in a single sitting. They talked about it all night and watched it again the next day. The otaku husbands spent the rest of the week writing metas anonymously online together and buying all the merch they could get. Victor and Yuuri watched the season finale live with the rest of the planet. It was such a romantic evening. They danced during the closing credits and immediately replayed the episode. They cried at the end both times. 

It’d been over 18 months since that finale. Victor had gone in and out of fanboying about the show, mainly jumping online to crow over a new piece of merch he’d acquired, or the time he met the creators. But he didn’t keep up with the news, the fics, the art. Yuuri acted as a curator, filtering out the best of the fandom, or the things Victor might most enjoy. Meanwhile, Yuuri’s obsession grew as the drought of official content dragged on. He joined local fan groups once a month to gush over doujins. The fact that there were enough people in St. Petersburg interested in gathering to gush over doujins once a month was a testament to the global phenomenon of this show.

Victor got halfway through his notifications, each about as coherent as Yuuri’s exclamations, when his phone rang. 

“The new figurine!” Chris gushed. “Have you seen it? C’est magnifique! Gorgeous! His perfect pechos, Victor! The deep V-neck!”

Victor had not seen it yet. Well, he’d seen it in several thumbnails, at the head of several links and messages, but hadn’t clicked and zoomed in to appreciate the details.

“I can not believe the concert will be live worldwide!” This was news to Victor, too. He’d seen the concert art repeated in his notifications and a few YouTube links. So, they’d be simulcasting it on YouTube for all the fans to enjoy at once? Victor felt chills rise up his arms. 

He stammered, “That’s so, I mean, they really want us all to experience this together…” 

“YES! Victor, the PR even released this in a dozen languages! They’ve never done that before!” 

“What’s the countdown for?” Victor glanced at Yuuri’s screen on the coffee table. Those blue digits somehow instilled a sense of anticipation the likes of which Victor hadn’t felt since he believed in Ded Moroz bringing him presents on New Year’s Eve. His heart seemed to beat in time with the descending ‘seconds’ digit.

“There will be a big announcement at the end of the concert," Chris said. "We think it's the movie release date.” Then Chris did his best impression of the catchphrase: “Wow! Amazing!” in Victor’s ear. 

Victor rolled his eyes. “Stop it,” he ordered, but was smiling. He didn’t know if he could stop smiling for three days, as he stared at those blue numbers. 

“Why?! Just because I can’t say it as well as you do?” 

“Because you know I said it first!” Victor was a diva about this. “The show creators were just emulating me!” 

Chris laughed and was clearly about to dive into his usual round of teasing, but then Mila called. 

Victor watched Yuuri pacing his corner of the room, gesturing wildly and beaming. His heart swelled, but he tried to listen as Mila insisted: 

“You guys have the best sound system! It’s a _concert_ Victor! I can’t listen to it over laptop speakers, that’s unacceptable. I need to come over to your place!” 

Victor couldn’t argue with that. What time is she planning on coming over? Did she know Yura was coming too? When he hung up with Mila, the first text he saw was a _‘Wow! Amazing!’_ from Georgi, who informed him, with much flowerier language than Mila, that he had to come over to see the concert, too. 

Yuuri and Victor looked up at once, both hanging up, ending conversations, in sync again at last. Victor reached grabby hands for Yuuri and their fingers clasped, gripping in a squeeze that meant more than words. They found each other. Their set their phones to silent and walked hand-in-hand to bed. Yuuri looked dazed as he stripped. Victor had the presence of mind to pull the blankets back, or Yuuri might have laid down on top of them.

“We have a party to plan…” Yuuri said, cautious and unsure. His eyes were still a little buggy. His shoulders braced against the headboard, his head upright at a harsh angle with the rest of his body, which melted into the bed. It looked so horribly uncomfortable, but Yuuri often contorted himself into such positions as though they were his natural state. 

“It seems we do,” Victor smirked. His body simmered with lowkey excitement. It was such a sudden and unexpected high to come down from. How was he going to sleep? 

“What were we supposed to be doing on Sunday?” Yuuri’s voice sounded a pitch too high. “I feel like we’re going to miss something...” 

“It was an agent and sponsor lunch.” Victor nuzzled Yuuri and assured him, “I’ve already rescheduled.” 

Yuuri checked the website again, on his phone this time, and showed the countdown to Victor. “Our party starts in 2 days and 12 hours, or so.” 

Victor considered. This was global. This would be a shared experience for everyone who loved the show, all at once. He imagined watching the concert and subsequent announcement with a stadium of fellow fans. Suddenly, he longed to be part of that crowd-mentality. For once, to be a member of the roar from the bleachers. 

“What are you thinking about?” Yuuri asked, eyes trained on his face. Yuuri could always tell when Victor’s mind wandered away. 

“Should we keep the guest list to just our skating family? Or do you want to invite the rest of your local otaku?” 

“I thought about that too.” Yuuri bit his lip. “They’re putting together a viewing party of their own. There’s already 25 people signed up to go.” Yuuri’s brows pulled together and his eyes shifted.

Victor snaked his arm under Yuuri’s shoulders and pulled his neck out of that awful craned position until Yuuri’s head rested on his chest. “But…?” Victor coaxed. 

“Well. We could all go to theirs. But I don’t think our skating fam would be comfortable with these guys. I mean, they’re all great, but they’re not just fans of the show, they’re all big skating fans, too. You know?” 

Victor hummed. It was hard to be part of the roaring crowd when you were famous. “Okay, just us and Georgi, Mila, and Yura.” 

“We can live-tweet if you...” Yuuri smiled against Victor’s skin. “Want to be part of the whole... broader experience?” Yuuri was such a mind reader. It wasn’t fair, really. Or maybe Victor just talked to Yuuri all the time, and Yuuri was an exceptional listener. 

“Don’t forget Chris and everyone in Hasetsu online,” Victor kissed Yuuri’s scalp. “I promise I’ll feel like I’m part of the fandom community.” 

When he finally fell asleep, Victor’s dreams were set to the beat of ‘You Only Live Once!’ The next morning, his cheeks were tight from smiling. 

\----------------------------------

The blue digits began with **00** for the day and 04 for the hour. It was almost time. Victor wasn’t nervous. He just felt like his whole body was humming. Yuuri, poor thing, was hoarse by this point. He’d been talking, squealing, and laughing nonstop with all his friends and family about the possibilities for days. Everyone was useless at the rink on Thursday and Friday. Yakov couldn’t keep anyone focused.

Yuuri and Victor tried to have everything ready before people arrived. Yuuri displayed all his non-R18 doujins on a table in the corner, for his friends to enjoy. He knew Mila would convince him, many drinks later, to show her the new naughty ones. But, at the beginning of the night, it was good to start with a facade of decency. Victor covered the remaining surfaces with toys, plushies, blankets, bobble heads and all other manner of fandom decor. Despite their best efforts, they didn’t feel ‘ready’ when guests showed up early, like they always did. No one cared. Everyone gushed over the autographed items, ate and drank, while reading updates aloud from social media. 

“I wish we could preorder the new figure,” Georgi mourned. 

Yuuri nodded agreement. “The free skate outfit looks great, so far. But they could still screw up the face when they paint it.” 

“Ugh,” Victor groaned. “Like the short program one. That looked awful. I felt bad not buying it.” 

Mila snorted and flipped her hair. “How could you not buy it?! I actually liked that one, despite all the haters. His face looks so serene and innocent.” 

As this conversation wore on, Yuri hunched in a chair at the kitchen table. He was doing a pretty good job of keeping up the facade that he was only here because Yakov and Lilia were horrible company on Sundays. He took out his phone and texted Beka: 

_Mila actually likes the short program figure?!?! Can you believe that?!_

_Beka: Mmph. It’s Mila. Yes, I can._

_Truth. I should shout “Of course you do! You have no taste!”_

_Beka: Do it._

_Then everyone will know I even know what the figures look like._

_Beka: Oh. Right. We can’t have that._

_NO. We can’t._

_Beka: Just tell them you like the show._

_NEVER!!!!!!_

Georgi and Mila got into their old debate about whether one of the rare pairs Yuuri imagined for the secondary skaters was accurate or had enough canon material for a foundation. Yuuri, of course, questioned whether a foundation in canon was even necessary to sail a ship in the first place. Then he swooned about the possibility of his rare pair on screen together in the movie. 

“Ehhh. This is stupid.” Yuri grumbled. “Why are you freaking out so much over this show?” Yuri kept his head down, eyes focused on his phone.

Mila plopped her chin atop his head and scanned his phone screen. As he swatted her away she crowed: “He and his Discord friends are swapping fanart on their server!”

“SHUT UP BABA!” Yuri swung at her, missing as she twirled away nimbly on her toes.

Victor gasped. “Yurio! Why didn’t you invite me to your fan server?”

“Fan _service_ is more like it,” Mila laughed around the rim of her wine glass. “It’s very R18 in there, Victor.”

“That’s inappropriate for your fragile young mind, Yura!” Victor swiped at Yuri’s phone, which was promptly buried in the teen’s pocket. Victor tried to wrestle with him for it.

“Your groping me is more inappropriate! Stay away from my phone, old man!”

Yuuri interjected and the tussling ended with Victor sulking on the couch. Yuri retrieved his phone with a sneer for Victor, “You just want to see the pictures so you can be gross with Katsudon over them.”

Mila was quick to pounce on that one. “So what do _you_ do with them, eh?”

Yuri flushed and put his phone back in his pocket with a series of Russian epithets concerning Mila’s age, appearance, and intelligence. 

“Why can’t you be sweet like the Yuri in the show?” Victor chided. 

“Why can’t you stop saying the dumb catch phrase, huh?” Yuri curled his lips and sneered: “Wow! Amazing!” And he scoffed. 

Mila swooped in behind Yuri and hugged him. “Aw! You’re just angry cause we like the anime Yuri better than you!” Mila laughed as he tried to break her hold and failed. 

Finally free, Yuri crossed his arms and sunk into the chair, “I don’t know why I hang out with you geezers.”

“Actually, yes,” Victor curled a finger under his chin. “Why _are_ you here, Yura? If you hate the show so much?”

Yuri was ready for this and didn’t miss a beat. “Because everyone will be skating to all these dumb songs this year! And if I want to look original and different, I need to know what my stupid competition is doing.”

Yuuri laughed. “Well, if you watched the show at all, which I know you don't, of course, but if you did, you’d already know all the songs." Yuuri leaned over the kitchen table, making eye-contact with Yuri. "And, if you don't care about the live concert, you could just download the soundtrack, right?”

Yuri flustered and postured. Then his eyes lit up. “But what if they play a new song for the movie tonight?”

Yuuri dropped his bag of mini carrots on the table. Mila let the chip she was about to eat stall two inches from her mouth. Georgi gasped. Victor looked at the three of them and they all shrieked in unison:

“OH MY GOD! WHAT IF THEY PLAY A NEW SONG FOR THE MOVIE TONIGHT?!” 

“That would be so totally their style!” Mila clapped. “Get us all excited thinking it’s going to be a trailer or a release date, but it’s actually a new song from the movie soundtrack!”

“Guys! Guys!” Yuuri waved his arms up and down in front of him like he was hitting an imaginary table. “They already did some choreography sequences and recorded that ice dancer doing the programs for the new songs in the movie!”

“That means they have the soundtrack already!” Georgi cheered. 

“Which means they could play a new song tonight!” Victor concluded, grabbing Makkachin’s paws as she jumped up, hyped up by all the excitement. 

Mila hugged Yuri, lifting him up off the floor. “You brilliant little kitten! I could kiss you!”

Yuuri began furiously texting Phichit. Victor and Georgi huddled and speculated in rapid Russian a dozen theories about _whose_ song it could be.

When he realized the others weren’t looking, Yuri preened and typed. _‘Beka, Beka, Beks!’_

Otabek responded immediately: _‘What happened?!’_

Yuri smiled. Beka didn’t want to miss a single update or speculation. _‘What if they play a new song tonight?'_

_Beka: ‘ADADFSAFSDAFAG I might die!’_

_‘Whose do you think it will be?’_

Yuri tried to hide his widening grin by slouching further into his hoodie. He hoped the others didn’t notice how quiet he’d gotten as he and Otabek texted their theories and freak-outs. 

\-------------------

Hours later, after the entire room (even Yuri!) cried in unison at one of the vocalists’ live renditions of the love song from the show, after they all screamed at the announcement, and hugged in a big-group-hug, jumping up and down, after everyone had passed out or gone home, Victor snuggled up to Yuuri in their bed. Yuuri tucked Victor against his chest, squeezing an arm, and the comforter, around his little spoon.

“How was it for you?” Victor asked, a curl in his tone that meant every bit of the double entendre. 

Yuuri shook his head, nose rubbing back and forth in Victor’s hair. “That was the best party ever,” he whispered. 

“I’ve never felt a part of anything like this,” Victor smiled and kissed Yuuri’s hand where it held the comforter under his chin. “This show is so special. I don’t know what to say.” Then he chuckled and cooed: “Wow. Amazing!” And he meant it in a way he never had before.


End file.
